End Times
by CyanKitten1
Summary: A man is given a prophecy in which he does not understand. Until he realizes that it is a prediction, and he must save his people. Will he be able to stop the death of billions of people, or will he cause it?
1. Chapter 1

Stars glittered weakly in the midnight canvas that created the clear sky, stretching across a wide expanse. There were clusters of faint and bold specks - these were the ancient stars that guided their ancestors, the same ones that had looked for them to advice. And they were there now. The ancestors lived on in these stars.

The full moon cast its glow on the grassy clearing below, silvering the land and hanging like a great luminous pearl. What it seemed to resemble that even in the darkness, there was still light. Streams of the moonlight dappled the clearing, with a cool night wind accompanying it. The air was cool and damp, with the taste of midnight. Nothing cut through the air - it was complete silence.

In the clearing stood a small, shadowed figure - a man with slumping shoulders and tired but strong eyes that glowed dimly in night. He glanced around worriedly, shivering in the inky darkness. How did he get here? Before, he had been snoring in his bed. But in a second, he had found himself in this grassy clearing. He didn't remember leaving his bed, so what explanation could there be for him suddenly finding himself in a clearing?

"Hello?" he called, hearing his voice echo across the wind. "Is anyone out here?"

There was no response, leaving the man with an uneasy feeling shuddering up his spine. He turned around, wondering where he could leave. But the clearing was surrounded with grass, and as he peered into the distance, there seemed to be no end to the land.

Silence hung thickly in the air, until a powerful voice broke it. "Welcome."

The man spun around, searching desperately for the voice. "Who's there?"

"An ancestor, from the past." In front of the man, a spirit emerged. He was also a male, with eyes that shone like the stars in the sky. His body glowed with a strange light, showing stars in his skin. Frost sparkled at his feet and glittered in his gaze. His body carried the scent of the seasons - the bitter tang of winter, the leaves of autumn, the flowers of spring, and the green of summer.

Sleek, silver hair topped his face, much like the man's hair. In a way, he looked like him, but a younger, more stronger version. _Are we the same? I don't know. We look exactly alike, but I don't recognize him._ He suspected that silver was not this man's hair - instead, the glow of the moon made it appear so.

"Who … who are you?" the man stammered out.

The spirit shook his head. "That is not important right now."

The man was too taken aback to challenge him. "But … where did you come from?"

"That I can answer. I am from the heavens, from the skies above." He tilted his head, smiling. "And I am here with a message."

Anxiety pricked at the man's heart. What did he do? "Is this a dream?"

"Yes," the ancestor replied, "but what I am about to tell you is as real as anything. And it is a prophecy." As the ancestor spoke, uncertainty flared in his once confident gaze.

"A … a prophecy?" The man stared at his ancestor with wide eyes. "But I'm not … wait, I didn't even know you existed. And I thought prophecies weren't real."

The spirit let out a small chuckle. "Not everything is as it appears to be, young one."

 _Young one? You're younger than me!_

"I'm not fit for prophecies!" the man exclaimed. "I don't know what they mean. I'm useless with one. I'll never understand it."

The ancestor fixed the man with a steady gaze. "You were chosen for a reason."

"I'm … chosen?" The man paused, furrowing his eyebrows. His blood ran cold, and his bones were chilled at the words that he was hearing.

"Yes. Listen, and listen closely, because I can only say this once." The spirit padded closer to the man, until he was in his ear. The man shut his eyes, his heart beating in his chest so wildly that he could hardly hear anything else.

"What is it?" the man asked.

" _A war to end all wars is coming. Behold, the day of judgement will come. For all the people will be gathered, plagued by carnage and destruction. The earth will be devastated. Only the chosen ones will stay. In the fight in the final indignation, the forces of virtue will clash with the forces of evil."_

The man stood, utterly horrified by the spirit's words. He stared at the spirit, meeting his gaze in terror, but the spirit didn't say anything. Instead, he dipped his head. In a matter of seconds, the spirit's faint body began to fade, turning it transparent.

"Wait!" the man yowled, begging for him not to depart. "Please, don't leave! I have to learn more! I don't know what you mean! Please, don't leave me!"

"You will find out. You will find out." Those were the last words the man heard as the spirit faded completely, leaving grass where he had once been.

The person left stood in the middle of the clearing, bewildered, trying to sink in what was just told to him. The man stared up at the black sky, fixing his eyes on the moon and the stars. Did they hear what was said? Did they have anything to do with it?

 _It is up to you._

Him? But why him?

He was nothing special.

No. He was dreaming. And dreams didn't predict the future, nor did they send out prophecies.

 _Must've eaten too much._ There was no way this was real.

But what if it was?

What if he really was the chosen one?

There was no way this prophecy could be real.

The man could only continue to stiffen, contemplating what he had heard as he stood alone in the clearing.


	2. Chapter 2

Hitler's eyes snapped open. As soon as his pupils made contact with light, he scrambled off of his bed and fled out of his room. He raced over to the planning room, and slammed the door open. He pressed against the wall, breathing heavily.

The dream was real. It had to be. It was so vivid. In his other dreams, he usually forgot most of it by the morning. But no. This one kept replaying in his mind over and over.

But what the spirit has said, was _that_ real?

There was only one way to find out.

"Goebbels!" Hitler called as he left the planning room. The lanky man had been leaving his own room as well.

Goebbels turned to face him, his sunken eyes glazed with sleep. He padded over to him. "Hitler," he greeted him. "I didn't know you woke up so early. And what's wrong? You look like you haven't slept."

"Oh, I slept, all right," Hitler snapped. "Get everyone here. Please."

"Everyone?" Goebbels tilted his head. "Like, everyone in this bunker?"

"No. The normal - Krebs, Burgdorf, Fegelein, Jodl, and Günsche! You know who I'm talking about!" Hitler's voice rose to a high pitch. He had to know what they all thought. Even though they were all complete idiots, he _needed_ their input.

"All right, all right," Goebbels muttered. "Relax."

"No!" Hitler exclaimed. "I can't relax! I have to get them, now! Skeletor, please!"

Goebbels raised his chin. "I'll get them right now."

"Thanks," Hitler breathed, slumping his shoulders. "Only them."

"Be right back." Goebbels turned around and disappeared at the end of the hallway, while Hitler retreated back into the planning room. He flopped on his chair, his thumping heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage.

Every second that his friends weren't there felt like an eternity. He was about to slaughter Goebbels if he took any longer. He couldn't keep this to himself much longer. He felt as if he was going to explode if he couldn't get this out.

The door opened, and Hitler looked up, seeing his friends walk in. All of them looked exhausted, as if they had been woken up abruptly. _And they were._ Their hair was frizzy, and their uniforms, which they must've put on in a hurry, were all rumpled.

Fegelein, who was at the head of the friends, curled his lip. "Oh, Hitler, you better have a _good reason_ for forcing this half dead monster to wake me up!"

"Nice to see you too," Hitler snapped.

Krebs yawned. "It's six in the morning. Did you expect us to be all happy and joyful?"

"This is important!" Hitler wailed.

"Then what is it?" Burgdorf asked, his voice dry. "Because if I find out it's something like your laptop was stolen, I swear to god I'll snap your neck with my own bare hands."

"No, no, it's not like that!" Hitler was struggling to keep the desperateness out of his voice, but he couldn't help it. His friends seemed to hear it as well, for they exchanged uncertain glances.

"You're really upset," Jodl commented, his lips pulling a frown.

"Yes, I'm really fucking upset! Now will you idiots shut the hell up and listen to me?" Hitler flexed his muscles to stop himself from leaping onto Jodl.

"Speak," Fegelein ordered.

Hitler glanced around at his friends, realizing that all of them had their eyes focused on him. They were willing to listen. Hitler knew he could trust these men - they were his friends, after all. "I had a dream."

"Oh boy." The dry remark came from Burgdorf, and Fegelein elbowed him in the stomach. "Ow!"

Ignoring the short tempered general's interruption, Hitler spoke. "I was in this dark clearing. There was the moon, and the stars were really bright. I was alone, until I called for someone. And then some guy came. I think he was a spirit, but he looked just like me. I don't think it was me, though. He was outlined in stars, he smelled odd, and his eyes were glowing. He told me that he had a prophecy for me. I tried to tell him that I wasn't one to get one, but he ignored me, saying I was the chosen one. And then he said to me, ' _A war to end all wars is coming. Behold, the day of judgement will come. For all the people will be gathered, plagued by carnage and destruction. The earth will be devastated. Only the chosen ones will stay. In the fight in the final indignation, the forces of virtue will clash with the forces of evil.'"_ Hitler took a deep breath. The words were as clear to him as day. He would never forget them. "He told that to me, and only me. I can't stop remembering it. He told me I was the chosen one. What if that has something to do with me?"

His friends stood in silence, exchanging puzzled glances. Hitler willed one of them to speak, but they didn't.

"Please, guys!" Hitler screeched. "I _need_ to know what you think. I can't stop thinking about this! It's going to eat me alive. It seems like it predicts something bad, and that I'll cause it …"

"If you ask me," Krebs began, "I think you're right. I think it really is predicting that something coming is bad, and that … well, I hate to say it, but it sounds like you will be the one to bring carnage and destruction."

Hitler gulped. _Oh, no …_

Goebbels tilted his head. "It sounds like a natural disaster will come. It doesn't seem like it has anything to do with you. I can't imagine you starting a war to end all wars. If the earth will be devastated, it's obviously something to do with earthquakes, or tornados, or that kind of stuff."

Günsche looked just as confused as everyone else. "I don't know … I have to agree with Skeletor here. A natural disaster is the most likely thing to occur."

"Are you all idiots?" Jodl broke in. "It was a _dream._ You really think some spirit is gonna come and give _Hitler_ a prophecy? You're out of your goddamn mind. Hitler had a dream, that's all. I don't know what he was on, but obviously he has a vivid imagination. What are you even thinking about? You're insane to think this has an actual meaning."

"What if it has something to do with religion? And God? A day of redemption is mentioned in there," Krebs mused. "That's in religion."

Burgdorf snorted. "If there was a God, he'd have saved me a long time ago." Krebs flinched at the words, but Burgdorf went on. "Jodl's right. Hitler's got an overactive imagination. It's all bull. We shouldn't take it seriously."

"What if it's predicting the end of the world?" Fegelein's question sent all of the men to turn around and stare at him, as if he had just grown another head.

"Um … what?" Hitler glared at Fegelein.

"Just hear me out," Fegelein said. "I believe you, Hitler. I really do. I don't think someone would have a dream with a prophecy. And if you can quote it word for word, you obviously remember it. We don't remember dreams that easily. And you do look like you were very affected by it. That wouldn't happen with just a normal dream. Look, Krebs was right. A day of redemption is mentioned a lot in religion. But when that's referred to … it often talks about the end of the world. 'The earth will be devastated.' The final indignation often refers to the end of the world. Hitler, you actually need to take this seriously. It might refer to that."

"The … the end of the world?" Fegelein's words were sinking in Hitler's heart, his mind a surging perplexity. Why did they make so much sense? But it couldn't be true. Hitler would _never_ be involved in the end of the world. And it was too soon. The world couldn't end anyways. Religion would never had anything to do with the end of the world. The sun would go out one of these days, and _that_ would be the end for mankind. "That doesn't make any sense, Fegelein."

"I _just_ gave you all the reasons that it made sense," Fegelein snapped.

Burgdorf glared at Fegelein. "Oh, come on. You can't believe that. That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard."

"Oh, and you have no explanation, do you?" Fegelein spun around to face Burgdorf. "All I heard from you was 'no one would give Hitler a prophecy.' I've given you much more examples. Who cares if it has anything to do with religion? The world is going to end one of these days. Sure, it's scientific, but remember the world is weird. We don't know for real what's going to happen. And … I think Hitler's dream may have told us."

"Well, the spirit, or whatever, could've been a _lot_ more specific," Burgdorf snapped. "And there's no such thing, so that's really stupid. The world will end with either a nuclear war, because the United States and North Korea are really going at it, or the sun's gonna die out. Simple as that."

Hitler's mind pulled in opposite directions as Burgdorf and Fegelein continued to quarrel. Fegelein's arguments _did_ make sense, but in a way, they didn't. The world had to end scientifically, not with what Fegelein was saying. But a spirit, an ancestor, had come to him, saying those exact words that Fegelein backed up. Hitler finally snapped out of his daze, but he was well aware that Fegelein and Burgdorf were still arguing.

"Shut the hell up, both of you," Hitler ordered.

Burgdorf and Fegelein glared at Hitler. "Well, you tell this idiot that his absurd evidence doesn't explain a stupid dream."

Fegelein curled his lip.

Burgdorf placed his hands on his hips. "Hitler, don't believe anything. You had a dream, that's all. If spirits existed, if ancestors existed, they'd put people out of their misery. But they didn't, did they?" With those words, Burgdorf left the room, still looking furious.

"Good riddance," Fegelein growled.

Krebs gave Fegelein an exasperated glance.

Hitler sighed. "What do the rest of you think?"

Krebs glanced at his feet, looking nervous. "As much as I love Burgdorf, I do disagree with him. Fegelein … well, you do really put up a good point. You make a lot of sense. I want to do some more research into this, I really do, before I come to a definite conclusion."

"Well, _I_ agree with Burgdorf," Jodl said, glancing at the door where Burgdorf had furiously stomped out. "He's right. There's no such thing as ancestors, no such thing as a God. If there was, if He truly cared about us, why have so many bad things happened? Maybe ending the world is the best thing. _Science_ is the only good explanation."

Hitler bit his lip. So far, Krebs agreed, while Jodl and Burgdorf both vehemently disagreed. "Günsche? Skeletor?"

Goebbels let out a long sigh. "Look, I'm not one to advocate for a day of redemption, but I agree with Fegelein, I really do. But what I can't imagine is you bringing about the day of destruction. It seems like that from what he told you, because he told _you_ specifically. That seems weird to me."

"Maybe it means that he's the one to stop the destruction," Günsche suggested.

"You can't really stop the end of the world," Fegelein argued. "The guy _told_ him everything that was going to happen. He never told him how to avoid it, or how to stop it. I can only assume that he'll bring upon it." As he spoke, his eyes shadowed, and he glanced at Hitler worriedly.

"Are you really that desperate to believe that I'd end the world?" Hitler burst out. Fegelein's eyes widened, and Hitler instantly cursed himself. That wasn't what Fegelein was implying.

"No," Fegelein said, regaining his moment of surprise. "No, I don't _want_ to believe it. But it makes sense." He sighed, glancing at the ground. "Hitler, no matter what, you will always have my support. I am not sure if we can exactly stop this, but you will have my support."

"But we don't _know_ if that's what it means," Hitler urged.

"You're right. We don't know what it means. But I will be here to help you figure it out." Fegelein dipped his head.

"All of our support," Goebbels added.

Hitler glanced at the door.

Krebs sighed. "His, too. He just got mad."

Hitler nodded. "I really hope I can figure out what this means."

"I guess we'll have to be prepared," Fegelein said.


	3. Chapter 3

Hitler padded into the drinking room. It was his mission to see if everything was all right in the bunker. If everything was the same, he was sure not to cause any chaos, right? If he just stayed in the bunker for a while, and maybe didn't rant, everything would be all right.

He heard a high pitched voice. "Look, it's not that much alcohol, okay? I can drink more than you can, Weidling!"

"I'm not even drinking."

"But I still can drink more."

"Are you deaf?"

"No!" There was joy in Burgdorf's voice, leaving Hitler to sigh with relief. _Well, someone's happy. If he's happy, maybe others are?_

Krebs' voice followed. "Come on, Burgdorf. Show them what you're made of!"

"You know what I'm made of."

The voices continued to talk over each other, and Hitler padded away, relieved that some people were the same. They didn't seem to have any fear over Hitler's prophecy. He had to make sure everything else was the same.

By habit, he went over to Goebbels' room. He was staring at himself in the mirror, examining his face. He ran two fingers down his face, stepping a little closer as he narrowed his eyes. He patted his uniform, seeming to remove dust from it.

"Well, Skeletor, are you trying to make sure your ugliness has gone?" Hitler stepped into the room, grinning.

Goebbels spun around to face Hitler, gasping. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "You snuck up on me. And I'm not that ugly."

Hitler examined Goebbels' protruding cheekbones, sunken eyes, and skinny figure. "Yeah … if you wanna think that."

"You're not helping my self confidence!" Goebbels exclaimed.

"That wasn't my plan," Hitler said. "Anyways, it's on the inside that matters. And you're a good guy. You're loyal to me. Remember, you're beautiful on the inside."

Goebbels smiled at him, his eyes twinkling.

"Just kidding." Hitler walked away from Goebbels' room, chuckling to himself. _Oh, at least I can acknowledge the fact that I'm a huge dick._

It was time to check on Günsche. And Hitler knew where he could find him. Trekking to his office, Hitler sat down in his chair, waiting for the stupid giant to come and inform him.

As if he summoned him with his thoughts, the large man pushed his way through the door, his sleek hair glimmering in the dim light. He turned to face Hitler, his eyes light. "I must inform you that you still hate the President of the United States."

Hitler glared at him. "Of course I hate him, you fool. He's everything I stand against, and he better be afraid for when I come to him. Fegelein probably elected him." Hitler rose to his feet, slamming the desk three times. "Fegelein! Fegelein! Fegelein!"

"I heard my name!" Hitler and Günsche froze at Fegelein's voice. They glanced at each other as Fegelein padded into the room, with a large smirk on his face. "Hitler's screaming my name again?"

"I'm glad you're not deaf," Hitler commented dryly.

Günsche padded out of the room, leaving the two to quarrel on their own. When he was gone, Fegelein turned to Hitler. "Sit down," he ordered.

"How dare you tell me what to do?" Hitler hissed at him.

"Fine." Fegelein pushed Hitler on his seat, and Hitler gasped as the chair began to levitate. In a second, it kicked him out of his seat and out of the room, sending him spinning.

" _Fegelein!_ " Hitler screeched as he was thrown across the hallway. He landed right near the planning room with a loud thud, sending pain through his entire body. Hitler gasped, resting against the door for a few minutes. "Oh, Fegelein," he growled to himself. "You are _so_ going to get it!"

But he couldn't help but feel a wave of relief. Fegelein was fine. He wasn't scared, he wasn't worried if he could pull an antic like that. Hitler pulled himself to his feet, allowing himself to catch his breath. As he regained it, he turned around and headed into the planning room, wondering what plan he would have today.

As it was around noon, everyone started to gather in the planning room. Hitler watched them, narrowing his eyes. The last person he had to check on was Jodl. Only his closest friends knew about his dream. If they were content, they wouldn't believe it was harmful.

"Welcome, minions," Hitler greeted his men. "Today, I'm planning to buy a cat for the bunker. I've decided I cannot put up with any of you, but I can put up with an animal to distract me."

"Steiner and the map, my Führer?" Jodl asked.

Hitler pointed at the map. "Steiner will go the Reich Pet Shop in order to buy me a cat." He nodded.

"I hope your cat doesn't touch my fish," Krebs said. "I would hate for that to happen."

"Fine." Hitler waved his hand. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen."

"But my Führer, I hate cats!" Jodl objected.

"And what makes you think I care about what you hate, you bald ape?" Hitler snapped.

"But someone may be allergic!" Jodl retorted.

"Then they can avoid the cat, you fucking idiot!" Hitler countered.

Jodl huffed, crossing his arms. Once more, another of his friends acting normal gave Hitler a huge sweep of relief.

If they were all so content, it couldn't be that bad, right?


	4. Chapter 4

Days passed. Everything was normal to Hitler's friends. It was as if they had just completely ignored the warning from Hitler, but he could not stop thinking about it. It took over his mind, his thoughts. He had been more absent minded lately, losing his thoughts. He knew that his friends were concerned, but he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, not badgered by a bunch of blundering idiots.

Now Hitler curled up in his bed, not sure what to make of himself. Was the prophecy real? Or was it not? Was it all nonsense, like Burgdorf and Jodl had said?

He was beginning to believe the two. Despite how they spoke, they had been using logic and reasoning, while Fegelein _did_ back up his evidence, however he had a more exotic view on it. He sighed, digging his face into his legs.

He willed for sleep to take over him as he shut his eyes and wrapped the covers around him.

The scent of greenery eventually woke Hitler up, and he found himself staring over a large pool. His reflection trembled like a leaf in the rippling waves below him. He looked up, seeing moonlight surround a hillside. The bushes had surrounded a hollow with rocky sides that led to the pool in which Hitler was looking over. Halfway up the hollow, a trickle of water bubbled up between two granite stones, glimmering like starshine as it fell into the pool below.

 _Another dream._ But as Hitler glanced around, there was no spirit to greet him. "Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone there?"

After minutes of waiting, he did not receive a reply. For some reason he couldn't explain, he knew he wouldn't get one. So what was he doing here?

He had to find out for himself.

He turned back to the pool. A red stain was beginning to spread across the surface, rippling outwards until the water turned into a mix of scarlet and orange. _What?_ He bent down, looking closer at it.

In a matter of heartbeats, images appeared from the vividly colored water, as if it was on a screen. Hitler couldn't pull himself away, no matter how hard he tried.

A wide expanse reflected in the water beneath him - desolate and destroyed. It was a wasteland, with nothing symbolizing that it had once been full of life. The wasteland began to take on a new color, titian this time.

There was a creature in the sky - something that resembled him in every single way. Down to the shape of his body, the outline of his face, and his height. But it also wasn't him. Instead, massive ripped wings that gleamed orange were keeping the creature afloat in the sky as they flapped furiously. Every part of this creature was different shades of orange and red - the wings a gradient of both colors. The creature's eyes gleamed with blood, and he was three times the size of Hitler as his entire body took in demon like features. His teeth were fangs, his fingers were claws, and he sent fear crackling through Hitler in extremes.

Hitler stepped back, horrified. His jaw dropped, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. That was _him._ That was him in the form of a demon, of a monster. And this creature was watching over a desolate wasteland, which showed no signs of life. _The end of the world … and that is me above it … me in the form of a monster. Me! I'm the monster that will end the world as we know it!_

"No!" Hitler yowled. "No, this can't happen to me!" He spun around, trying desperately to seek out the spirit who had talked to him before. "Where are you? Tell me more! I have to know!" He climbed out of the hollow and pelted across the grass, searching aimlessly for the one who had given him the prophecy. He had to be here, right?

But no matter how far Hitler roamed, there was no sign of him. Hitler, breathing heavily, collapsed on his aching knees, digging his face into the ground as he tried to come to terms with what he just saw.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The voice snapped Hitler out of his misery, and he dragged himself up, looking for the voice. _Is it you?_

No. The land around him disappeared, and Hitler found himself in his bed. Fegelein was staring at him, his sapphire eyes round with worry, his jaw tilted. "Are you all right?"

"What?" Hitler pulled himself up so that he was seated on his bed.

Fegelein stepped back. "Jesus, Hitler, I don't know how your screaming didn't wake everyone up in the bunker. It sure as hell woke _me_ up."

"I bet you weren't even asleep," Hitler scoffed.

"No, but I was trying to," Fegelein retorted. "And that little wail of yours scared the hell out of me. What happened?"

Hitler was still out of breath, so he took a few seconds to gather his composure. Then, when he felt okay again, he burst out into his story, and the dream he had. Fegelein listened intently, his eyes boring into Hitler.

Finally, when the Führer was done explaining his story, he glanced at Fegelein expectantly. _He always knows what to say. I can always rely on his advice, even though I hate his fucking ass._

"Hitler," Fegelein began, "take this seriously."

"I can't," Hitler croaked. "I don't even know if the spirit I saw in my dream was a real spirit."

Fegelein tilted his head as a thoughtful look emerged into his eyes. "What did he look like?"

"I told you guys. He had stars in his skin, on his body. His hair was silver, but I'm pretty sure that was a reflection of the moonlight. And he seemed so magical … so _wistful._ He looked like a celestial being, and his eyes and everything about him was shimmering. I don't know, maybe that was my imagination. His entire body just sparkled."

"Hitler, I promise you, that is a spirit," Fegelein said, certainty in his voice.

"How do you know?" Hitler growled.

"Because I'm visited by them." Fegelein's confession made Hitler stiffen completely.

"Wh-what?" Hitler stared at Fegelein, completely bewildered. Fegelein? Visited by spirits? By ancestors? How was that possible? Was he involved in the prophecy too?

Fegelein shook his head. "I don't think I'm involved in the prophecy. Do you know my family history, Hitler?"

"No," Hitler said. "What happened?"

Fegelein let out a deep sigh. "When I was around eight, my family was slaughtered by a criminal in the village. My mother, my father, my brother, my cousins. The only people who survived was my other brother and my sister. My sister ran away, and we couldn't find her. It was out of fear, and I didn't see her until I turned twenty. My brother and I stuck together, but he later then fell to the hands of the assassin. We were together when that happened. I was fighting desperately to stop him, but I was just a kid. I couldn't fight him. So I ran away. I was a coward, and I hid out for the rest of the year. As I was running away, the assassin yelled after me that he would eventually get me. A year later, he did. I ran into him while I was living on the streets. He fought me, but I fought back. He ended up killing me. I fell to my death, my heart stopped."

The Führer broke off Fegelein's story as horror filled his entire body. _Fegelein? Dead? But he's alive! He's right in front of me!_ "What are you talking about? I went to school with you. We found out Burgdorf's story together. We stuck with the bunker for a full … what, middle school to high school? And even after that. And not to mention, you're right in front of me right now."

"Let me go on." Fegelein's voice was dry, but it was also cracking. Hitler could see the pain he was in by telling this story, as tears brimmed around the edge of his eyes. _Fegelein doesn't cry. This is so much for him. I can't believe it! How did he die?_ "But the doctors were able to save me. Someone found me."

Hitler took a deep breath. _He lived. He's all right._ But something hit him. A while back, when Hitler was around his age, he had found a kid on the street, bleeding to death. _He suffered Fegelein's same fate. If I tell Fegelein that, maybe he'll feel better._ "I remember seeing a kid on the street once, after he was really hurt by someone. I ended up bringing him to the hospital. Maybe that'll make you feel better. Someone went through what you … did." Hitler's own voice shattered as he came to terms with what happened to Fegelein. _Oh, God. He's been through so much, yet he still is here, right in front of me._

"Yes." Fegelein gazed at Hitler. "The person who saved me …" He took a deep breath. "... was you."

"What?" Hitler exclaimed, jumping up in bewilderment. _What?_ "I saved your life when you were just a kid?" Shock flew through every single vein of Hitler's body as he jerked up, staring at Fegelein in utter disbelief. _Was you? Was you?_

Fegelein nodded slowly. "Yes, Hitler. I owe my life to you. I became invincible after that."

"But … but … that doesn't make any sense!" Hitler's voice was now high pitched. _How did I save Fegelein? What is this? This is impossible!_ He couldn't make sense of his spinning head that seemed to be giving him a migraine. He had so many questions - so many that he couldn't keep track of. But he knew he had to let Fegelein explain. "I _never_ met you until we were in middle school."

"No." Fegelein shook his head once more. "When I saw you in middle school, I knew that you were the person who saved my life. Why do you think we became friends? You're not an easy person to befriend, you know."

"But Fegelein, I don't remember this. I don't remember that it was you that I saved. How could it be you?" Hitler's voice was trembling as he tried to process what Fegelein had told him.

Fegelein sighed. "After this, you notified the orphanage, because I told you what had happened to me. I then had foster parents after. I loved them dearly, and I was given a second chance at life. Because of you."

"So … why did you never _tell_ me this?" Hitler choked out.

"That's one thing I regret the most," Fegelein confessed. "I never did. I planned to tell you my entire life, but I never got around it, because I was so …" Fegelein's voice broke. "... embarrassed."

Hitler stared at his feet, shutting his eyes. He knew that Fegelein was right. He couldn't swallow his pride enough to tell Hitler. Fegelein went on. "I was going to tell you. My entire life, but I couldn't summon up the pride. My one thing to myself that I would tell you that you saved my life before you died. But … yes, Hitler. You are the reason I am still here today."

"What does that have to do with the spirits though?" Hitler asked. He still had questions for Fegelein, but he had to get Fegelein's story first.

"I get to see my family. I know they're there. I can talk to them, I can look to them for advice. I will for them to come, and I know that they're there, I know they're spirits. And I know they're always there for me. Because whenever I look to the stars, I know that they're looking down on me, in life, and in dreams."

Hitler swallowed a gulp in his throat as he saw tears swelling in Fegelein's eyes. This obviously was such a hard story for him to tell, but he had told him anyways.

Fegelein shrugged. "Anyways, moving on, that's how I know you saw spirits. That's why you should take them seriously. They're your ancestors, they know more than you ever will. And they chose you for a reason."

He was changing the topic abruptly, and Hitler knew he didn't want to keep talking about his past. The Führer still wasn't over Fegelein's story - he wasn't listening to his advice. _I saved Fegelarse's life, and I never knew. Wow. Just wow._

"Hey, you listening to me?" Fegelein's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Oh. Oh, yeah, I am." Hitler shook himself. "Okay. All right. I need to listen, you're right."

Fegelein nodded. "You told me you saw yourself as a monster, looking over a barren and desolate wasteland, correct?"

"Yeah."

"That kinda proves my point that you'll be the one to end the world," Fegelein said, sighing. "But maybe there's some way we can avoid that."

"It may be destiny," Hitler argued, feeling his heart sink to his stomach. "I … I don't want to destroy us. But I don't know if I can avoid it."

"We shape our own destiny," Fegelein told Hitler. "It may be laid out for us, but that doesn't mean we can't change it. We have the strength in us to do so."

Hitler swallowed. "Thank you." He thought back to Fegelein, and how he had died for a moment. Fegelein's eyes were glimmering with relief, and his shoulders were slumped, but in relief. _Things tear up him up inside, but he always insists upon bearing that burden alone. I guess telling his story to me relieved a lot of his pain._

Fegelein nodded, getting to his feet. "Well, my Failüre, I hope that I was able to give you some advice. And this is going to happen. But I will help. We will work on this together, and I am sure the others will help."

Hitler sighed. "Thanks, Fegelein." _What's strange is just how much knowing you have someone on your side can change things._

Fegelein turned away, walking towards the door. But before he left, he swung his head around, gazing at the Führer. "Hey, Hitler?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saving me."


	5. Chapter 5

Fegelein padded away from Hitler's room, shutting his eyes as he remembered what he had told Hitler. Guilt was clawing up his spine and spreading throughout his entire body. He should've told Hitler as soon as he met him, but he had kept it inside of him for so long. After telling Hitler, he felt a tad better. Only one person knew prior to Hitler, but Fegelein had wanted to tell the person who needed to know it the most. Telling just _one_ person hadn't relieved the burden on his shoulders, or the stuffiness inside of him.

He remembered how he had told Hitler - his voice had been stammering and breaking, and he had been trying so hard not to cry. But he did. He had cried, despite trying to be strong. His heart had shattered throughout the entire story, but that was one thing he could not confess. As he told the story, he had been trying to forget the past, but it was all that was on his mind.

He ran into the person who knew about his story. Burgdorf stepped back as he collided with Fegelein. "Ugh!" he exclaimed. "Watch where you're going." His eyes suddenly softened as he saw Fegelein's state. Fegelein was well aware that there were dry tear stains down his cheeks, and that he looked exhausted. "What happened to you?"

"I told Hitler," Fegelein said simply.

"You did?" Burgdorf pulled back, his eyes wide. "After so long? I thought you'd never tell him." His eyes clouded over as he recalled his past, but he straightened himself up.

"He had to know," Fegelein murmured. "I couldn't live my entire life without telling him."

Burgdorf nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get you. You're right, he did need to know. How did he react?"

"Well, he was surprised," Fegelein replied. "Obviously. I don't think he ever imagined saving _my_ life, or saving a life in general. He had a hard time remembering, but it all came to him. As it did to me."

Burgdorf patted Fegelein on the back. "Oh, Fegelein. I'll never be able to thank you, as I'm sure you won't ever be able to thank him."

"Yeah. So I'm not even going to try." Fegelein glanced at the ground. "Do you think I should've told him? I obviously just added another weight on his shoulders."

"What do you mean?" Burgdorf asked. "How did you add another weight on his shoulders? If anything, you probably made him feel better. I mean, he's the reason you're here. And I guess that sounds bad, but it really isn't."

"You think?" Fegelein countered.

"Of course." Burgdorf nodded. "Look, I know we squabble sometimes, but we have a shared past, and you'll always be my best friend, all right?"

Fegelein dipped his head. "I know." He glanced around, making sure no one else was in earshot. "He had another dream."

Burgdorf pricked his ears and scoffed, crossing his arms. "I already told you, I don't believe in that stuff."

"No, hear me out here, Burgdorf." Fegelein went into the detail of Hitler's dream, hoping that maybe the stubborn blonde general would listen to him this time. When he was finished explaining, Burgdorf sighed.

"Look, I don't want to argue with you," he began, "but I _really_ don't believe that, all right? Okay, Hitler had a dream. I still don't see how that tells us that the world is going to end, or that he's going to turn into a monster and be responsible for it. That's like saying he's going to turn into the Hitler from the past."

Fegelein shrugged. "Burgdorf, I really hope that you'll see that this is serious."

Burgdorf frowned. "I don't see how it is."

The last thing Fegelein wanted to do was lose his temper with Burgdorf, so all he nod was nod briskly at the general and pad away. He had to think of _some_ way to convince Burgdorf, and Jodl as well. He thanked God that his other friends believed him, and wondered what he should do next.

Fegelein climbed out of the bunker, knowing that what he needed right now was some fresh night air. When he was out of the bunker, he exhaled, enjoying the cool breeze that spun around him. _Good. This is exactly what I need. I feel a lot better now._ He sat down on the grass, looking up at the indigo sky above him.

All of the stars that stretched across the expanse of the sky shimmered brightly, burning with the brilliant sapphire pallor of electric lights. The stars were glimmers of hope piercing through the sky's veil. They drew the eyes heaven bound, and just gazing at the sapphire canvas seemed to drown Fegelein's worries.

Fegelein suddenly jerked up, noticing something. Several stars were beginning to glow more brightly than others. _My family. In a sky full of stars … I see them. I would gladly die in their arms, I would give them my heart. They've always lit my path. The lighter they get when it gets darker. Such a heavenly view. They're calling for me. I have to see them._

And in a second, Fegelein rushed away from where he had been lying down and back to his room. He collapsed on his bed, curled up, and shut his eyes, hoping to see his family.

Fegelein found himself next to a hollow which had a gurgling waterfall behind it. Moss covered rocks that dotted the edge of the hollow, and Fegelein could hear the soft murmur of the water. He glanced around, looking for someone.

"Hermann," greeted a similar voice that made Fegelein's heart ache. "Back so soon?"

"The last time I saw you was last night," Fegelein argued. But as he saw his brother, he felt a wave of relief. His brother was very similar looking to Fegelein - both their heads were round, their eyes were bright blue, and both had chiseled features. However, his brother's hair was lighter and a tad more fluffier than Fegelein's was. He had stars sparkling along his entire body, while the outline of his features were shimmering white.

His brother shrugged, his eyes glowing. "Well, what did you need?" he asked.

"Nice to see you too. I can't come and see my brother?" Fegelein challenged, although his brother's voice was light hearted.

Fegelein's brother chuckled. "I don't think you're ever going to lose your spark. So, what's on your mind?"

The Gruppenführer sighed. "I think you know."

His brother hesitated, looking uncertain. Then he let out a small nod. "Yes."

"What can you tell me about it?" Fegelein asked.

"Not a lot," his brother confessed. "Actually, not anything."

"But you know about it."

"I know. I know everything. Brother, I wish I could tell you, but I simply can't. This is something the people on Earth must figure out on their own." His brother hung his head, guilt clouding his eyes. "I'm sorry. I simply can't tell you. All I can say is that what is going to happen is vital to you and your friends."

Fegelein huffed. "You're sure you can't tell me anything else?" he asked, a twinge of unease in his voice.

"Do you think I wouldn't if I could?" his brother countered. "I would, I swear. Please, trust me. The only thing I can tell you is to listen to your heart, and to help out your friends in the best way possible. Don't give up, don't lose hope. What's meant to be will find a way."

Fegelein frowned. "Oh."

"I'm sorry." His brother straightened up. "I must go. Goodbye, Hermann." With that, the spirit of his brother began to fade slowly, each star that outlined him turning dimmer and dimmer. Finally, he was gone, and the only signal that he had been there was flecks of stars littering the ground.

Blinking, Fegelein found himself in his bed once more. He rose to his feet, stretching his arms as he let out a yawn. The dream he had was vivid and clear, and he had to tell Hitler about it. _Maybe he'll believe me._ Fegelein padded away from his room and dragged himself towards Hitler's chambers. He knocked on the door, hoping that Hitler was awake.

"What idiot is it?" Hitler's voice was a snarl.

Fegelein rolled his eyes. "It's me."

"Fegelarse, I swear to God, if you're here planning an antic, I'll-"

Fegelein cut him off. "No. Just let me in."

"Fine. Come in." At Hitler's permission, Fegelein slipped inside of the room through a gap in the door. He turned to face Hitler, who looked like he hadn't slept in years. He had dark, deep bags under his clouded eyes, and his dark hair was frizzy as it fell over his eyes. "What do you want?"

Sighing, Fegelein went into the detail of the message he had received. Hitler's eyes were wide as he listened, and when Fegelein had finished, Hitler pulled back. "Do you think that you are apart of the prophecy?" he asked.

"No," Fegelein replied. "My brother would have told me if I was, and I would have had the same dream as you did. But I didn't. That excludes me. It's just you, Hitler."

Hitler frowned. "And you think there's nothing we can do to _stop_ this?" he inquired.

All of the Führer's questions made sense, but Fegelein knew he had to reply as truthfully as he could. "Look, Hitler, I told you what I think. I don't think we can stop this. We just have to go through it, with as much strength as we can. And that we have to help each other."

"Help each other," Hitler echoed, musing. "Help each other." He glanced at Fegelein. "You know, helping each other hasn't worked out in the past."

Fegelein raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Hitler shook himself. "Well, I mean, yeah, it's worked for us, but I mean, something like this …"

Fegelein sighed. "We're going to do something."


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey." Krebs scrambled up from the bench he had been sitting in as Burgdorf walked over to him. Krebs had been seated in the drinking room in the morning, having a small midnight drink. Burgdorf had wandered away, as he heard footsteps. Krebs had let him go, but he had been gone for a little longer than he had expected. "Where'd you go?"

Burgdorf glanced at him, seeming to just notice he was there. "Oh. Just … you know." He obviously was troubled, as there was a distant, clouded look in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Krebs asked, tilting his head in concern. Burgdorf was only like this when something was bothering him - Krebs wanted to know. But first, he had to be comfortable. He didn't want him to trap himself in a daze that Krebs was afraid he couldn't pull out of. "Come, sit here."

Looking too tired to argue, Burgdorf dragged himself next to Krebs and flopped down. Krebs wrapped an arm around his neck. "Tell me what happened."

"Well …" Burgdorf looked around. "I ran into Fegelein."

"Did he hurt you?" Krebs asked.

"No, of course not." Burgdorf lifted his head. "Did I ever tell you that Hitler saved Fegelein's life?"

" _What?_ " Krebs jolted up in his seat, leaving his arm to accidentally hit Burgdorf as shock slapped Krebs with the strength of an ocean wave.

"Ow!" Burgdorf exclaimed, rubbing his temple where Krebs had hit him.

"Sorry!" Krebs apologized, flustered. But Hitler? Saving a life? _Nevermind Fegelein's!_ "What do you mean?"

"Are you deaf?" Burgdorf snapped.

"No. I mean … I don't … how did he save his life?" Krebs' mind was reeling, unable to comprehend what Burgdorf had just said.

"Without betraying Fegelein too much," Burgdorf began, "his heart stopped as a kid." He gazed at Krebs, memories flickering in his eyes like minnows. The words Burgdorf had said made Krebs flinch as he remembered their shared past.

"H-he … he died?" Krebs choked out the words.

Burgdorf nodded. "Yeah. But this was at a hospital. Hitler had found him bleeding out on the streets, and he got him to the hospital. But if Hitler hadn't brought him when he did, Fegelein would be dead. Fegelein owes his life to Hitler." His voice cracked as he explained the story, and Krebs knew that he wasn't just thinking about Fegelein.

"I never knew that," Krebs murmured.

"It wasn't my place to tell," Burgdorf said. "He confided in me, and only me. I had no right to tell anyone else what he told to me in confidence. And now that I told you … I hope he's all right with it. I guess he just wanted someone else to know. I hope he doesn't rip me to shreds."

Krebs looked down. "I don't think he'll rip you to shreds," he said. "So did that make you upset?"

"A little," Burgdorf confessed. "Just memories. But forget about it." He shook himself, as if trying to shrug away the memories. "He also told me Hitler had another dream. Apparently he saw himself as a monster or something, and he thinks that's another clue in him being responsible for the end of the world." Krebs could tell that Burgdorf wanted to chuckle, but he was obviously restraining himself as he changed the topic abruptly.

"Burgdorf, look, I _agree,_ " Krebs said, feeling exasperated at his boyfriend's stubbornness. "Can't you just hear us out?"

"I listened to Fegelein," Burgdorf growled. "I listened to Hitler."

"So listen to me." Krebs met Burgdorf's gaze levelly, hoping that he would agree to listen.

The blonde general let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine. Go on."

Krebs straightened himself up, still trying to get over the shock of what Burgdorf had just told him. "Okay. Look. Hitler had a dream that told him of a prophecy that's predicted exactly like it is in religion. That the end of the world is coming. And he has another dream, right? One where he sees himself as the cause of the world ending."

"So you really want to believe someone like Hitler's going to kill everyone on this planet?" Burgdorf challenged, curling his lip.

Burgdorf's comment made Krebs hesitate. He was right. Hitler wasn't the one to kill everyone. And how could someone like him bring such a measure of carnage and destruction? That would only be if he had other people do it for him, and Krebs could never imagine that.

"Well … you know, I was thinking about something," Krebs murmured.

"What?" Burgdorf asked. "Don't tell me it's something stupid, please."

"I don't think it is. But … you know about allies."

Burgdorf sighed. "How stupid do I look?"

Krebs rolled his eyes at Burgdorf's constant comments. "What if Hitler made himself some new allies in order to prepare for this?"

"One, nothing's gonna happen. Two, what allies? Hitler's a complete dick. He'll never get himself any allies with the way he talks." Burgdorf seemed to brush this aside completely, but Krebs was determined to get him to listen to a _little_ bit of what he was going to say.

"We can try," Krebs urged Burgdorf. "Come on, Burgdorf. If you love me, you'll do it."

"Wait, what?" Burgdorf glanced at Krebs. "Are we bargaining now?"

Krebs shook his head. "No. But come on, help me out!"

Burgdorf narrowed his eyes.

Krebs padded closer to Burgdorf. "Please?" He was a few inches away from Burgdorf's lips. "It'll be worth it!"

"Jesus Christ," Burgdorf said, sighing. His blue eyes glittered with annoyance. "Fine, okay? I don't believe it, but whatever, I'll help."

"Thanks." Krebs kissed Burgdorf on the cheek and padded away, leaving a skip in his steps. He was aware of Burgdorf groaning, leaving him to chuckle.

The two made their way into the planning room, where the rest of their friends were already there. They were listening to Hitler ramble on, who showed no sign of stopping. Krebs examined his friends. Fegelein's arms were crossed, Jodl was rolling his eyes, Goebbels was facepalming, and Günsche was gazing stoically at Hitler.

"Hitler!" Krebs exclaimed, bouncing a tad. "I have an idea."

"Oh, great," Hitler sneered. "What is it, map pervert? If you think I'm going to some stupid fish store just to buy food for your filthy fish, I swear to you, you'll find them on my dinner plate tonight."

Krebs grunted at Hitler's harsh words, but took no offense. He was used to them. "Look, I know you're gonna hate me for saying this-"

"I already hate it," Hitler said, interrupting him. "Now shut up." He laid back in his chair, although Krebs could see a flicker of worry in his eyes.

"Come on, let me finish. You're so worried about your prophecy, right? And the apparent end of the world? You need allies." Krebs met Hitler's nervous gaze.

Hitler sat up. "What do you mean?" he asked warily.

"Uh …" Krebs was suddenly lost for words, his mouth bone dry. He glanced at Burgdorf, realizing how absurd it was to suggest that Hitler align himself with Stalin.

Burgdorf rolled his eyes. He obviously wasn't hesitant to say it, as he stepped up and braced his shoulders. "Krebs is saying that you should forge an alliance with Stalin."

Hitler shot up in his chair. "Are you fucking stupid?" he exclaimed. "No! Absolutely not!" His cheeks flushed with rage, and Krebs stepped back nervously. However, Burgdorf stayed calm.

"Why not?" he asked. "Think rationally, Hitler, before you do something you regret." There was a thin, veiled warning in his voice, but Hitler didn't seem to catch onto it.

Fegelein nodded slowly in agreement. "If you keep squabbling with Stalin, Hitler, chances are you'll get yourself killed sooner than later. It might be good to have someone on your side. I'd consider it."

Hitler glanced from side to side. His face was now pale, but he still was tense. A curled lip followed his next words. "I don't want to."

"Well, who cares about what you want?" Fegelein snapped at Hitler. "It's what's best for all of us. And you're so stubborn, you can't even see past your own eyes!" His nostrils flared as he braced his shoulders, leaving Hitler to stare at him with shock.

"Okay. Fine." Hitler's voice was uneasy. "Listen up, dildos."

 _I can't believe he agreed with Fegelein so quickly. He's really nervous about this._

All eyes on the room were focused on Hitler. Krebs could feel his heart pounding against his chest. He hadn't felt this nervous in quite some time, which told him that something was going to happen.

And it wasn't going to be good.

Hitler sighed. "I'll do it," he conceded. "I'll make alliances with Stalin."

Krebs pulled back, bewildered. Hitler was going to listen to him? "Are you sure?" he blurted out.

Hitler swung a piercing blue gaze on him. "I wouldn't waste my breath if I wasn't. But you're accompanying me, you dipshit."

The fishman sighed. "All right."

"You and …" Hitler glanced around the room, focusing his eyes on a certain antics master. "You."

Fegelein snorted. "Fine."

"When do we leave?" Krebs asked.

"Now." Hitler got up from his seat, glancing around. "Come on."

"Wait, right now?" Krebs tilted his head.

"Are you deaf?" Hitler curled his lip. "Let's go, dickjobs." Without waiting for an objection, Hitler pulled himself away from the planning room and marched away. Krebs and Fegelein exchanged perplexed glances and chased after him.

"How do you think you're going to get to Russia?" Krebs hissed, catching up to him. "We're only, well, I don't know, about three thousand miles away?"

"A plane, Krebs," Fegelein snapped. Usually, Fegelein was rather laid back, but now his voice was sharp and full of annoyance. _The stress is getting to everyone._

Hitler narrowed his eyes. "It better be easy to get one. I'm the Führer, after all."

Fegelein muttered something under his breath that Krebs didn't quite catch, and he didn't know if he wanted to either.

"Let me make a few phone calls," Hitler said, before heading out into another room. Krebs watched him silently.

Fegelein let out a soft sigh. "Things are already going to ruins," he murmured. "What's going to happen to us next?"

Krebs glanced at Fegelein, concerned by the intensity of his voice. "You sound as if everything's terrible," he remarked. "It's not."

The man raised an eyebrow. "You're right on that. But I just can't shake off this feeling that something _is_ going to happen. And I hate to say it, Krebs, but I'm usually right. I'm just praying that I'm not."

Krebs dragged his gaze away from Fegelein towards the room Hitler had disappeared in, unable to make sense of the churning emotions that gathered in his heart and his head. For a few moments, both men were silent until Hitler burst out of the room he had disappeared in.

"A plane will take us east," he announced. "To the Kuntsevo Dacha."

"We're going to Stalin's home?" Fegelein exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"Where else did you want me to go?" Hitler snapped at him.

"The Kremlin!" Fegelein's blue depths blazed.

"Well, I'm going!" Hitler shouted. "Maybe he'll take me more seriously."

"Or he'll take one look at you and snap your neck," Fegelein snarled. "Look, how stupid are you?"

Hitler let out a low growl. "I'm not changing my mind."

Fegelein scoffed. "Fine. Then don't."

The Führer, apparently still fuming, led the two men out of the bunker and into the back of the bunker. Krebs relished the fresh air on his face, hoping that he would experience this once more.

Ten minutes passed as the three men stood silently. Krebs looked up as he heard the engine of a plane revving. In a few seconds, it had already landed in front of them, leaving Krebs to jump back.

The plane was a Blohm and Voss BV 142. Four engines were on a low inverted monoplane wing, with a double vertical tail. The center wing was metal covered, with the outer wings being covered in fabric. The landing gear had four wheels, and there were six flaps in the mid wing.

In the plane was Göring. The plump man looked out the window, narrowing his eyes. "Get in. I missed my lunch."

"All right, you dipshit," Hitler muttered. "Come on, you two." He nodded to Fegelein and Krebs, who climbed after him inside the plane. The cabin was small, with the three men being squished next to each other - Fegelein on the right, Hitler in the middle, and Krebs on the left. Göring had all the space he needed in the pilot's seat, leaving Krebs to wish that this ride was over.

Göring was the one to begin small talk. "Should I even ask why I'm flying you three to Stalin's house?"

Hitler, Krebs, and Fegelein all exchanged uneasy glances. Krebs knew how absurd it would be to explain to Göring the actual reason. He turned to Hitler, knowing he was the one who had to come up with the fabricated response.

"Uh … we're paying him a friendly visit!" Hitler improvised. Krebs winced at the stupidity of his answer.

"Uh huh." Göring's voice was dry. "So, you're getting me to fly you in a plane, to Stalin's personal quarters, to say hi to him?"

Hitler nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly what this is."

"Right." Göring didn't even turn around. "You want to make Stalin even more madder."

"I'm not making him mad, you fat fuck!" Hitler snapped at him. "Stop asking questions! This is none of your business!"

Hitler's furious response seemed to shut Göring up, but it also shocked Krebs. He bit his lip to keep himself from saying something stupid, so he shut up and pressed against his seat.

Around two hours passed until Göring finally brought them at the Kuntsevo Dacha. The plane had a smooth landing in a bare expanse, about a few feet away from Stalin's territory. The house was located in the middle of the woods, leaving Krebs to wonder how one could live here. When the plane was situated on the ground, Krebs was the first to climb out of it.

As he stepped into the woods, he took a deep breath, taking in the musky scent of the trees and foliage around him. Hitler pulled himself out of the plane and collapsed next to Krebs. Krebs turned around to help him up. Fegelein finally leaped out, leaving the two to fall on the ground.

"Oops. Sorry." Fegelein's face was smug, leaving Krebs to grunt as he pulled himself up. Hitler muttered curses under his breath, but didn't bother to call Fegelein out. Hitler got to his feet, brushed off some dust from his uniform, and took a deep breath.

"All right. Let's do this." Hitler led Fegelein and Krebs to the large, two story green building that matched the color of the leaves around them. Hitler knocked on the front door a few times, glaring at it furiously.

"He's not gonna answer in a second, Hitler," Krebs murmured.

"Yeah. He's taking his sweet time." Hitler tapped his foot, whistling, until the door finally swung open. Hitler jumped back in surprise.

Stalin hadn't answered. It was Chuikov and Zhukov. Chuikov glared at Hitler, both eyebrows arched, his curly hair sticking out all over the place. Zhukov stood next to him, still as a stone. His glare was as equally harsh as Chuikov's.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Chuikov voice was chilling as he spat the words in Hitler's face.

Hitler blinked. "Oh, just thought I should stop by for some sightseeing. No, you idiots, I'm here to see Stalin. What, did you think I was gonna take the two of you out for a date or something?"

Chuikov and Zhukov glanced at each other. "What for?" Zhukov asked, turning to Hitler.

Fegelein, who had once been behind Hitler, pushed his way to stand next to him. "This is for Stalin's ears, and Stalin's ears only," he warned Zhukov. "Not for you two."

"Oh, you brought backup," Zhukov sneered, leaning closer to Fegelein's face. "Couldn't come by your own."

"And Stalin has his little clique too," Hitler snapped, stepping closer to Chuikov. "I see no reason why I couldn't bring two of my men."

Chuikov's gaze scanned all three of the Germans before turning to Zhukov. "What do you think?"

"Let them in," Zhukov invited, venom dripping from his voice. "I'd love to see Stalin's reaction."

Chuikov narrowed his eyes. "Fine." He turned to Krebs, his eyes glittering as he recognized him. "You're here, too?"

Krebs glared at him. "Glad you noticed."

Chuikov shrugged. "Sorry, didn't notice you." But he made no other comment as he led Krebs, Hitler, and Fegelein inside of Stalin's residence.

Stalin's house was rather spacious, but Krebs decided to be cautious with every single step he took as he followed Stalin's most trusted men. Chuikov led the three towards the living room. He paused, nodding to Zhukov. "Watch over them. I'll get Comrade Stalin."

Zhukov nodded. Chuikov gave the Germans one last huff, and disappeared into another room. Krebs watched him curiously.

After a few minutes, Chuikov reappeared, looking nervous. Behind him, Stalin walked out. His broad shoulders were tense, and his eyes were glittering with annoyance. His thick mustache twitched as his lip curled. When he turned his head and recognized Hitler, his nostrils flared, and he jumped back.

"Chuikov! Zhukov!" Stalin's voice was scathing. "What is _he_ doing here?" His eyes blazed as he stared at Hitler.

"Comrade!" Zhukov exclaimed, bounding over to him. "Relax. He needs to talk to you."

"Great," Hitler growled. "Nice to see you too, Stalin."

Stalin took a deep breath. "You think I've forgiven you for killing my double?"

Hitler rolled his eyes. "One, I didn't kill him. Two, he was trying to take over the United States. He kidnapped Obama, don't you remember? I had to kill him."

The Soviet leader crossed his arms. "He was still my double."

"He tried to kill everyone," Hitler said.

"I had nothing to do with that." Stalin cocked his head. "But enough with the small talk. What are you here for?"

Hitler took a deep breath, before glancing at Krebs and Fegelein with a wide glance. _Oh, no! He didn't think of what to say! He knows he's going to sound like an idiot._

"Go on, Hitler." Fegelein's voice was dry. "Say it."

The Führer turned to Stalin. "Stalin," he began, "I've reason to believe that a catosphere will befall our planet and our people soon." His words were curt and somewhat sophisticated. But he wasn't being encouraging. Could this really work?

"A catosphere?" Stalin scoffed. "We've ton lately. Donald Trump has been elected the President of the United States. He sided with you filthy Nazis. He's friends with Putin. Steve Bannon is apart of the government. America is slowly turning into Germany. Terrorism is still not defeated. The Middle East is still in shambles. Poverty exists, there is still starvation. They're everywhere. If you're not specific, I can't understand what you're talking about."

Hitler clenched his teeth. Krebs could tell that it was taking all of his strength to not lash out on Stalin. "As leader to leader, Stalin, I fear that there may be more to it than that."

Stalin raised an eyebrow. "Why are you telling me this? Why do I care about what comes from a lousy double's mouth who hides in a bunker all day? The chancellor of your country should be discussing this with our President. I have no power in Russia anymore. I am just here. The other Stalin is dead, just like you are not the Hitler everyone thinks you are."

Hitler curled his hands into fists. "I am not going to go to the chancellor and tell her what I think. I am talking to you because we are the same in what we are - we are simply shadows of our historical figures. We lead what are shadows of what had caused so much destruction. Yet we are not that. You're right, we are not who we were. We never have been. They are separate people. We are not them. We are better than they were, because we will never repeat what they have done. But in this case, it's leader to leader. So I'm asking for you to please put up with me here."

Stalin's face was much more relaxed, and his muscles were not as tense anymore. Krebs glanced around. The entire room seemed to be much calmer. Zhukov and Chuikov didn't look as hostile, as their gazes turned curious and intense. Stalin also looked at them before speaking. "Go on. Tell me what has you so upset. Not that I care, but it's extreme enough that you're here, and I doubt you're leaving."

Fegelein coughed. "Get to the point, Hitler. None of us have all day."

 _Even though we're all much more relaxed, when earlier it seemed like we were going to kill each other._

Hitler glanced at Fegelein, and then Stalin. "Stalin, I have reason to believe that the end of the world will befall us soon."

"What?" Stalin spluttered the words out in a hearty laugh, while Chuikov and Zhukov both had wide eyes from behind him. "What?"

"You heard me," Hitler said tightly.

Krebs winced at Stalin's disbelieving reaction. _This isn't going to turn out well. It was so good, until Stalin heard that. Oh, no …_

"The world ending!" Stalin's laughter turned into a roar. "Oh, Hitler, you never fail to amuse me!" He looked down at Hitler, his hazel eyes turning hard. "You're here to waste my time about that? How _stupid_ are you? Really? How do you know this?"

"I had a dream!" Hitler protested feebly. "An ancestor told me!"

"A dream?" Stalin stepped closer to Hitler. "An ancestor? You're too caught up in books, comrade. I'm not going to waste my time, listening to you, complaining about how the world's gonna end because _you had a dream._ " His entire wide body trembled with the force of his exaggerated laughter.

"Oh Jesus Christ!" Fegelein's voice turned to a howl as he stepped closer, staring at Stalin. "Listen for once in your goddamn life! This is true! This is all true!"

Stalin tensed his muscles. "You're an idiot, and Hitler's an idiot. You're here to fool me! You're here to trick me! For what? For _what?_ "

"For nothing!" Hitler shouted back at him. "I'm trying to work together, not judge you!" He was shaking, and his words were equalling Stalin's intensity. "And if you don't help me, we're both going to die!"

"You're spitting out nonsense!" Stalin howled. "And you're wasting my time! I'm not going to listen to you ramble about the end of the world, because frankly, that's complete nonsense, and I don't believe you! Now get out of my sight!"

"What?" Hitler's eyes widened.

"You heard me. Get out of here! Before I have you killed! Chuikov, Zhukov, take them out!" Stalin's orders were flung in the air as he whipped around.

Chuikov and Zhukov grabbed Hitler's arms, leaving Hitler to wriggle in their grasp. Fegelein bounded over to Stalin. "Listen," he pleaded.

"No," Stalin growled. "Get out of here as well. There's no exception for you."

Fegelein's eyes were round with dismay, and Krebs shared it. He slumped his shoulders as he followed Chuikov and Zhukov out of Stalin's house. They opened the door and pushed out all three Germans.

"And don't come back," Zhukov spat as he slammed the door shut in their face.

Fegelein, Hitler, and Krebs stood, bewildered and distressed. Nothing good had come out of Hitler's attempt to make an alliance with an enemy. Instead, it seemed to have worsened their relations. How could they work together now? After seeming to listen, Stalin had just exploded on them. Now nothing was better.

 _Oh, why did I think this was a good idea?_


	7. Chapter 7

"So? How did it go?" Goebbels' voice was the exact equivalent of thorns piercing into Hitler's side as the lanky man walked up to him. His eyes were glinting with the eagerness to know more, but all Hitler wanted to do was push him away.

"Great!" Hitler sneered sarcastically, padding away from him.

Goebbels tilted his head, and Hitler sighed inwardly as he heard Krebs' matter of fact voice. "It didn't turn out so well."

"What happened?" Goebbels asked as Hitler swung around.

Hitler glared at him, unable to find the words to explain what had humiliated him so much. Stalin's roaring laugh, the disbelieving looks of Chuikov and Zhukov, the three all staring at him as if he had lost his mind when he had genuinely tried to explain what had happened. He turned around, crossing his arms.

"Take a wild guess, half dead monster," Fegelein growled, walking past him, looking just annoyed as Hitler. "Stalin can't see past his own nose. His two minions are just as bad. You'd think one of them would have a little bit of sense, but I guess all Soviets are the same."

A new voice interrupted the men - a familiar objecting one. "You'd had to expect that would happen, though." Jodl was at the entrance of the door, his aqua eyes glittering with annoyance, one of his legs crossed over the other.

"Well, you know what, you bald fuck?" Unable to contain the rage that was stirring inside of him that he had kept bottled up for so long, Hitler swept through the room and in front of Jodl. He pinned him against the wall, his arms on each side of the general as he leaned closer to his face. Fury burned deep in his veins as his own anger roared in his ears. "Why don't you go ahead over there and explain it to him, since you're the greatest out there and you're the only one who could possibly do it?" His nose was only a nail's length from Jodl's, and the bald man was staring at him, his eyes wide.

"Hitler! Stop!" Krebs' hands dug into Hitler's arms as he dragged the Führer away from where he held Jodl. He spun around, ready to face Krebs, but Krebs grabbed Hitler's shoulders before he could do anything. Anger burned in Krebs' eyes as he focused them on Hitler, his fingers firm around Hitler's arms once more. "You think that'll help anything?"

"Did I miss the show?" Burgdorf's voice was high, and he had taken Jodl's place in front of the door. Hitler and Krebs turned around to look at him. He was sipping a glass of alcohol, looking perfectly content, and it took every single nerve in Hitler's body to not run over to him and rip him to shreds. "Or is it just beginning?" He smirked, the smugness clear on his face. _Oh, you little …_

Krebs gave Burgdorf an exasperated gaze, leaving Hitler to suddenly realize something.

 _This will put a strain on their relationship. All of us … all of our arguing … they will be forced to pick sides. What if it ends the two?_ Hitler shook away his worries. It didn't matter to him if the two broke up.

Right?

"Well," Hitler began uneasily, glancing at Jodl, who had recovered from his shock, "I …"

"Am I getting an apology?" Jodl asked, his voice hard with annoyance.

"No." Hitler turned his back on Jodl once more, staring at the ground, biting his lip as he tried to make sense of his panging head and his racing heart. _I can't even control myself anymore. I'm so scared! I'm never like this! I don't know what to do!_ And suddenly, the words came out of him. "I have no idea! I'm so lost! I don't know what to do, I don't!"

All eyes on the room focused on Hitler, and he turned back around to face them. Burgdorf's sapphire eyes were narrowed, and Krebs' were darting from the floor to Hitler. Fegelein had no emotion whatsoever, while Jodl scoffed disbelievingly, and Goebbels glanced side to side.

"Well?" Hitler demanded. "What do I do? Tell me, one of you! Because I don't know!"

"And we do?" Goebbels asked quietly.

Hitler was silent.

 _If I don't know what to do, how do I expect them to know? They listen to me … just as I listen to them. Oh, no. I'm stressing them out. I'm making them more upset than they should be. I thought I couldn't handle this burden alone, but if I'm upsetting them, then it should just be me._

"Am I making you nervous?" Hitler inquired, his breaking voice hardly audible.

Krebs and Fegelein exchanged uneasy glances, while Burgdorf's eyes were still narrowed, and Jodl put his hands on his hips.

"Where's Günsche?" Fegelein asked, looking around to search for the missing man. "He should be here with us. He's apart of this, you know." He swung his head around. "He's not here." His voice dropped to a tiny whisper. "He's not here."

Hitler gave Fegelein a puzzled glance. Why was the general getting so emotional over everything lately? He wasn't like this. Fegelein was usually laid back, not seeming to care about anything. But now he cared too much.

Was this a sign?

"I'll find him," Krebs offered, a little too quickly. Hitler narrowed his eyes. It was as if he was eager to get out of the room.

Why was that?

"I'll come with you," Hitler said.

Krebs nodded.

"Actually, we all will," Fegelein said, seeming to invite himself. "It's unfair to exclude him from this. After all, he knows. Might as well let him in on it."

"It's not like we purposely didn't tell him," Hitler argued. "He's just … not here." Suddenly, he stopped. _Why? He's always here to inform me of something, and he's here with his friends. It's odd to see him away from us. He'd usually be waiting for our return …_ Hitler knew that the best thing to do was look for Günsche, not spending his time worrying about him.

"It can't be just us?" Krebs asked softly, looking smaller than usual.

"Look, what's up with you?" Hitler glared at Krebs. "How are you bothered by all of us? We're in this together, remember?" _I don't have time for your conflicted feelings!_

Krebs bowed his head. "All right," he rasped. He was the first one out, his steps swifter than ever. Hitler cocked his head, utterly puzzled by Krebs' actions.

He turned to the one who would know. "What's up with him?"

Burgdorf gazed steadily at Hitler, with no response. "Just go. Find Günsche before it's too late."

"Um …" Hitler's voice trailed off. He had to keep in touch with his friends, right? He knew just earlier he had told himself to ignore it, but he had learned the hard way not to brush aside the feelings of his friends. They were just as important as his own.

"Hitler." Fegelein's voice was firm, but Hitler could detect a tinge of nervousness in it. "Let it be. Leave it alone."

"Okay." Hitler wasn't in the mood to argue with two people, so he pushed aside Krebs' odd actions, and focused himself on the search for Günsche. "Where could he be?"

"Well, I sure know he didn't leave," Jodl said. "Would've said something. I guess check your office? He may be waiting for you there."

"Then he's an idiot," Hitler snapped. "I wouldn't go there if I came back from an urgent meeting. I'd have to report it." Sighing, he left the room, leading the men to his office in hopes that they could find their towering friend.

But he wasn't where he usually was - in front of the door, waiting for Hitler to allow him in. Granted, Hitler hadn't been there, but he usually stood in front of there. Hitler instantly became nervous, biting his lip. _This is bad. Very bad!_

"Look at the planning room," Hitler ordered Jodl. " _Now._ "

Jodl scampered away from Hitler as soon as the demand was given. Hitler watched him leave, his eyes narrowed as he tried to not think about the worst that could happen. _He can't be missing. No, he can't. That'd just add to all the bad things that had happened._

After around a few minutes, Jodl, alongside Krebs, appeared. "He's not there."

Hitler facepalmed. "Where did the idiot go this time? I've had enough of rescuing him from the dumb places he gets himself caught in!"

"Let's check downstairs," Krebs suggested.

"What, the hospital?" Hitler furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would he be there?"

"Look, just trust me on this." All of a sudden, Krebs' eyes were clouded, seeming very agitated. "I have this feeling that something's not right."

"You don't say?" But Hitler didn't want to doubt Krebs. It was better to be safe than sorry. He started to head downstairs, his friends behind him as he made his way through the hospital. Günsche's back was visible, but Hitler could also see Schenck and Haase, talking anxiously to him.

Hitler padded over to them. "What's going on?" he demanded.

At Hitler's sharp voice, the three of them spun around, facing Hitler with wide eyes. "My Führer!" Schenck explained.

"Shut up." Hitler glared at him and turned to Günsche. "Why are you here?"

"My Führer …" Günsche stared at Hitler, his gaze so worried that it made Hitler's skin crawled. "I …"

Haase interrupted Günsche as the man tried to look for words. "Mohnke came down with a sickness." He stepped away, revealing a hospital bed. On the bed laid Mohnke, and Hitler walked over to him.

Mohnke was coughing. His glassy eyes had bags underneath them, while his skin was a pale, reddish color. His swollen face was drenched in sweat, and his stomach was rising heavily. Hitler glanced at what he had coughed up, and he stiffened as he realized that it was blood.

"My Führer," Mohnke began, but a cough interrupted his sentence, sending out blood once more. "I'm … fine."

"No, you're not," Hitler said, trying to control the panic that had taken control of his body as soon as he saw Mohnke's condition. "Rest, my Mohnkey. You will be better soon. I am forbidding you to carry out your job. If you do, I will have your head on a silver platter."

The sick man looked up at Hitler one more time, his watering eyes full of agony. He laid his head down on his pillow, seeming to have no strength to react.

"Feel better," Hitler whispered. "Please, feel better." He walked over to Haase and Schenck, who had been watching Hitler's encounter. "What's wrong with him?"

"If you want the truth, I don't know," Schenck confessed. "That's what I've been trying to figure out."

"What I do know is that it's contagious," Haase told Hitler. "From seeing him, it definitely is. You have to go and wash your hands as soon as possible, my Führer."

"If it's contagious, why are you so close to him?" Hitler asked. _It's bad enough that Mohnke is sick. We can't have them being sick._

"If that was a problem, we would've gotten it already," Haase said calmly. "We can be around him. We have to treat him."

"Will he be okay?" Hitler demanded. The fear felt like a knife being slowly twisted inside of him, a hammer on his head. As he waited for Haase's answer, all he could hear was his pulse thumping.

Schenck and Haase were quiet for a few seconds, before Haase answered. Hitler took into consideration that Haase was much more experienced than Schenck was, and therefore knew more than he did. "I don't know."

Hitler stiffened, his stomach contorting inside of him. His muscles froze into place as he took into Haase's answer. "But … but, you can get it under control, right?" He was aware that his voice was high pitched, but all he needed was an answer.

An optimistic one, preferably.

Haase blinked at him. "We are trying our best, I promise you that, to the bottom of my heart."

Hitler glanced at the ground, nausea crawling into his stomach.

Was this the beginning of the end?


	8. Chapter 8

"How is Mohnke?" Jodl's worried voice broke into Hitler's thoughts as the elderly man sat down in his chair, his eyebrows knit together, his eyes shut.

"Go check on him yourself," Hitler snapped. "I didn't visit him."

"And why not?" The piercing voice was tinged with accusation.

 _Because I'm a coward._ "Because I haven't the time."

"But you've time to sit here with your eyes closed."

"Do you _want_ your head cut off?" Hitler snapped, rising to his feet and squaring his shoulders. "Because I promise you, I can get that done within a few minutes!"

Jodl met his gaze steadily. He opened his mouth, about to say something, until another voice chimed in the distance chimed in.

"Dear me, such alarming threats." Fegelein eased his way through the half open door to walk towards Hitler. His placid smile and tone belied the needle-like sharpness in his eyes.

"What." Hitler looked up to the one who had plagued his life for so long.

"Goodness me, my apologies for intruding," Fegelein said, sparing a glance in Jodl's direction. His face suddenly turned grave. "Get out."

Jodl, switching his eyes from both Hitler and Fegelein, gave a deep bow and hurried out. Fegelein watched him until the sound of footsteps faded, and then turned to Hitler. His gaze was cold and sharp, and although it was impossible to read past it most of the time, Hitler knew exactly what he was going to say.

"He doesn't have that much time left," Fegelein reported. "You should see him. If anything, he's a few days. He gets worse by the second, my Führer." For a moment, Hitler thought he could see a biting of his lip, but it was gone just as soon as Hitler thought about it.

"So, it's that bad, isn't it." Hitler let out a small sigh.

"We have tried to keep him separated from others so that they wouldn't get it, as it seems contagious, but…" A crease emerged between Fegelein's brows, finally displaying some sort of emotion. "I've heard coughing."

 _Is that so._ That would be Hitler's normal response, but he knew that this was not something to take lightly. He breathed a sigh through his nose, clenching his fists.

"You believe that this is the prophecy coming true." Fegelein did not take his eyes off of Hitler.

"What other explanation is there?" Hitler countered.

Fegelein didn't say anything.

"What do _you_ think?" _Give me something! Something to assure me that everything will be all right!_

"The day that my Führer asks for my opinion," Fegelein muttered, half to himself, looking down at the ground. "I imagine tomorrow that fire will fall from the sky." He lifted to his head. "I agree with you."

"Then why does everyone think I'm going insane when I bring that up?" Hitler snapped, his lip curling as he felt rage boil up inside of him, the flickering of the flames that would bring out what would eventually threaten the world as he knew it.

"You should get the opinions of others," Fegelein said flatly. "And deliver your farewells to Mohnke. He is an old friend of yours, and not to mention he has been there for you for so long. Do not take that for granted… because you have."

Hitler flinched. How could Fegelein talk about death so nonchalantly?

"You wonder why I talk about death like that."

 _Stop reading my mind, you unbearable dullard._

"I have accepted death long ago, my Führer. Others do not seem to understand that. Death is inevitable, and our life span decreases by each day. It will come, whether we are prepared for it or not. There are many causes of death… the human body is fragile and vulnerable. Our loved ones cannot keep us from death, our body cannot help us at the time of death. And at the time, our material resources will be no use of that."

"So can you seriously tell me that when you look death in the eye, you will not falter?" Hitler challenged him. _I fear death! How can he not?_

"Of course not," Fegelein replied. "I have lived a life with no regrets. I used that life I was given to defend the things I truly wished to. I think of what it is that I lived for, and if one lives well, they will not falter when Death comes for them."

"You're fine with everyone dying, then."

"I never said that." The blue in Fegelein's eyes flared. "Of course I want to stop the death, because I do not believe that this is the time of their death. If there is some way we can stop it… we must take that route. Don't take advantage of your loved ones."

Hitler turned his head for a second, pained at the sharpness of Fegelein's words, but not wanting him to see the pain he was experiencing. When he turned back around, Fegelein was gone, leaving no trace that he had ever been in the room. _Leave it to him…_

He was right, though. _I don't want any regrets…_ Despite the heaviness that was dragging him down, Hitler lifted himself from his chair and forced himself to walk towards the door. He opened it and began to make his way through the bunker.

A broad-shouldered man blocked his way, and Hitler recognized the blonde, tufy hair of the bunker's local alcoholic, Burgdorf.

"What are you doing." Hitler stared at him.

"I can't walk around the bunker?" Burgdorf queried, arching an eyebrow. His voice was much more pierced, compared to Hitler's flat tone.

"Mm, perhaps try not blocking me, eh?" Hitler dodged the question.

"I guess a better question is, are you visiting Mohnke?" Burgdorf jerked his head towards the direction of the basement of the bunker, as if to emphasise his question.

"Yes."

Burgdorf's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Isn't that a surprise."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Anger flared in Hitler's chest. _Seven hells._

"It's not like you visit sick friends often," Burgdorf said, his voice a rumble in his throat. "You've never really shown sympathy… and if it weren't for Fegelein, I don't think you would've gone."

 _Good lord, he knows too? Why are there two men that I can never turn my back on?_ Hitler bit his lip. "Stop the eavesdropping."

"Prove I was there." There was a challenge in Burgdorf's eyes, but it was dull, and Hitler knew that he too was affected by all that had been going on. Finally, Burgdorf turned away. "You should hurry. There is not much time left." With that, he melted into the shadows of the bunker.

 _I'm willing to bet he was a shinobi in his past life. Fegelein, too._ Knowing that it was a waste of time to ponder the reasons behind the two's movements, Hitler took a deep breath, inhaled, and continued to walk towards the basement.

His heart pounded viciously in his chest, so loud that he willed for it to stop beating. Blood rang through his ears as each step took him closer and closer to the sight he had never even dreamed of seeing. The hairs on his arms stood as he made his way through the underground hospital and past the white curtains that harbored the sickly Mohnke, who was lying on the makeshift bed.

Schenck was next to him. He looked up, his eyebrows knit as he met Hitler's gaze.

"Is there… any hope?" Hitler forced out the words.

Schenck shook his head. He stepped back, nodded to Mohnke, and bowed to Hitler. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared past the curtains. Hitler watched him, a lump in his throat. When Schenck was gone, Hitler kneeled near Mohnke.

Getting a closer look at his face, Hitler stiffened. Every bone was visible, his sunken cheekbones looking much like Goebbels'. His eyes were cloudy, unseeing, and his complexion was pale and gray. _This… is a dying man… but a dying man who is accepting it, nonetheless._

"You were the last to see me." Mohnke's voice was hardly audible.

"Wasn't I always?" Hitler choked out. "Even in battle…"

A small smile played on Mohnke's pale lips. "I have been holding on until I saw you."

"Holding onto life?" The words of Fegelein played in Hitler's mind. _The human body is fragile and vulnerable. Our bodies cannot save us at the time of death._ "You can… do that?"

"Until it is time to let go. I know when my death is… and it was after I saw you for the last time." Mohnke coughed. "Listen to me, my Führer. I have lived a long life. I learned from my mistakes."

 _Learned from mistakes..._

"But if there is one thing I have learned, it's if you do not keep the things that mean the most to you close at hand, you will regret not doing so when they are lost to you. I did that… and it changed what I had to live for. My reason is that I wanted to save whoever I could, however few they may have been. I was not that strong, so I cannot save every one of my comrades … but I don't want to carry the regret of having stood by and done nothing."

 _You're talking about the last battle you ever fought in._

"Use what I am telling you today, my Führer. And… know that, wherever I go, may I feel at peace, I will always be watching you… and I will be with you." With another painful, sorrowful smile, Mohnke slowly let his head lay back, and Hitler watched as his once blue eyes clouded over lifelessly.


End file.
